


Winterfell Wonderland

by ladybaelishness



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Anger, F/M, Forgiveness, Older man, Rape References, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 06:01:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12029670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladybaelishness/pseuds/ladybaelishness
Summary: My alternate end to season seven with some references to the books. Spoilers to anyone not caught up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time creative writing...ever so I would love any and all feedback! I've been sitting on this first "chapter" for weeks and even though I wanted to share it altogether I've broken it up to at least two parts. I don't own any of the characters and all that disclaimer stuff.

This was the first time in a long time she was rendered speechless. Upon her arrival at King's Landing it happened frequently for she had been a child in all respects of the word. She was older now, wiser, Lady of Winterfell, a true leader, and Sansa Stark's responses were always the proper thing to say but "Oh" was all she could muster.

  
"Does that make you uncomfortable?" A look of amusement flashed through his eyes as he asked already knowing the answer.

  
She could tell he was enjoying this. It had been a long while since he had really been able to catch her off-guard. Banter was his foreplay and knowledge was always the goal.  
Taking a heavy breath in she decided to be honest "Yes"

  
"A refreshing answer." He paused and walked over to the window gazing out into the blanket of snow that draped over the lands of Winderfell. "Sansa love, you never have to lie to me. You can speak freely in my confidence. You can trust me."

  
"I find that very hard to believe Lord Baelish." She said picking up her quill and looking down at the scroll she had been writing.

  
"You must know by now how much I care for you." The last time he said that he had told her of her impending marriage. She cringed at the thought. "Your interests are the only I value above my own sweetling." His gaze left the snow outside and went to her face. She could tell he was staring but she didn't dare meet his eyes. There might have been a time when she believed him. A time before he gave her to Ramsay Bolton.

  
The Starks had reclaimed Winterfell but Sansa could never reclaim her life before; she had been married to evil incarnate. It didn't matter that Lord Baelish had saved them after the Battle of the Bastards, a part of her wished she had died. So many people she loved were now gone, the sweet sleep of eternity felt more home than Winterfell. Why had the gods taken Robb a true born leader, sweet innocent Rickon, and the part of Bran that made him human? Why did they spare her? Sansa tried not to dwell on despair for anger was easier to let roll through her veins.

  
"What about Lord Stark? Did Hand of the King frequent your establishment?" She spat not really wanting to know the answer. The previous topic of brothels suddenly seeming more appealing than thoughts of Ramsay.

  
"No, love." His voice was barely above a soft whisper, the tenderness was surprising considering he had no love for the Stark men. She finally met his eyes and her hard look softened, she knew he was telling the truth. Littlefinger had a knack for discovering the desires of men and women alike, nothing happened in Westeros he didn't know about- sometimes before it even happened. "Sansa, your father loved your mother very much. As jealous as I was, the more I learned of Ned the more I knew he was the best man to be with Cat. He was honorable. You're a lot like him you know, you are the best of both of them. Thankfully your beauty mirrors the Tully house."

  
It was no secret Petyr loved her mother, they had a long history when they were children at Riverrun. Lord Baelish had even married her mother's sister Lysa to become Lord of the Vale. It was there in the Eryie he once kissed Sansa out in the snow before saving her from her jealous aunt. He had shoved her out the Moon Door killing his dear wife Lysa. That night still confused her. That was the night she started playing Petyr's game.

  
"Father was the arguably the most respected man in the North and he still fathered a bastard." She still held her quill in position but she had quit writing. Saying those words left a bad taste in her mouth, she missed him, all of them, so bad it hurt. "I meant no disrespect, regardless of what happened he was still the most noble man I'd ever met." Tears were close and Sansa knew if one escaped they would all come flooding down.

  
"Things aren't always as clear as they seem." He looked at her hard and she sensed a hidden meaning in those words.

  
"What do you mean? What do you know?" She looked away from the letter she was writing to Jon, the letter that only had 'Dearest brother' penned at the top even though she had been sitting there for what felt like hours.

  
"What sounds more like your father, bringing home his bastard or the bastard or someone he loved and was trying to protect?" His expression was usually hard to read but a smirk of forbidden knowledge was on his eyes and lips.

  
"That does sound more like Father but have you ever looked at Jon and Robb together? They favor far more than the rest of us. If you are done speaking in riddles please allow me some peace and quiet." 

  
"No doubt both men are half Stark." His eyes were playful but he didn't give anything else away. "Forgive me my lady, when Lord Snow returns there will be much to discuss, until then I'll leave you to resume your correspondences." He slightly bowed and left her alone.

  
Lady Sansa was surprised to find herself disappointed he obliged.


	2. The Godswood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some Sansa reflection in the Godswood.

Sansa hadn't felt this restless in a long time. How was it possible to feel so much and so little at the same time? She was home, she was warm, she was protected, but she didn't feel safe. Sleep seemed impossible so she grabbed a thick cloak and threw it over her smallclothes. 

"I'm fine Brienne, really I am, I just want to visit the Godswood. Sometimes when I'm alone I can feel Mother there." Sansa knew how ridiculous she sounded, her mothers bones weren't even within the castle walls. Her father was in the crypts and while she visited often her mother was who she needed most right now. Without waiting for a response she pulled the hood over her bright auburn hair and started walking.

Even the southerners couldn't deny the beauty of Winterfell when the snow came. The snow was like a blanket covering all evidence of battles fought, structures damaged, and lives lost. When you looked outside at the undisturbed white wonderland it would take your breath away.   
With every crunch of her footsteps she knew she was getting close to her destination. Despite the cold and the dark Sansa sat down and looked at the big tree and focused on her emotions one at a time.

The simplest emotion was her longing for Jon. Though the two hadn't been particularly close as children she knew she had to make that right. The purest soles she'd met had been judged their entire lives based on circumstances out of their control. She thought back on her marriage to Lord Tyrion, she was horrified when she learned of her betrothed but he was good to her. Sometimes she wondered if she would have ever found a form of happiness if she'd stayed. Sansa knew the answer though. It wasn't just her vanity but the Lannister family that would have prevented contentment.

 

Jon would never replace Robb in her heart but she was determined to let him in. Inevitably when she thought of her brother shame rolled through her stomach as she thought of the other innocents she had wronged. Nothing broke her heart more than the way she had treated her father. From the time she understood the basic idea of procreation she had mixed emotions about her father. Ned Stark was the best man she ever knew and she knew in her heart he couldn't have ever betrayed her mother. No matter how hard she thought she couldn't understand why if Jon was another man's bastard her father claimed him. Why not raise him as a ward alongside his natural born children if he'd simply felt sorry for the boy? Why would he put her mother through the heartache? Sansa knew if Jon wasn't her blood brother her mother didn't know. Cat didn't hold any affection for Jon, and wouldn't her father have told her the truth if he was indeed another man's son? Or was this an attempt of Lord Baelish to undermine Jon Snow's claim to the North?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hadn't planned on this chapter but I promise some juicy stuff will be coming up soon! I know my explicit tag has been misleading...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as juicy as I originally anticipated, but this whole experience has taught me the best laid plans often change.

"I want you to leave." She tried to sound confident even though she was everything but. Her eyes were focused on her cold feet as she burst into his private chamber, she knew the minute she looked into his eyes she would have second thoughts. She dismissed Brienne for the night but now she doubted she did the right thing. Brienne wouldn't hesitate to get rid of Petyr Baelish, cordially or permanently. The decision of who she needed to be Alayne Stone or Sansa Stark, was usually easy, both girls had their strengths but they shared one common weakness.

 

"It isn't proper for a lady to burst into a lords chamber unannounced" he said with a crooked smile. She could never believe his nerve, but he knew she was bluffing. His smirk quickly fleeted when he saw where her gaze landed, she was staring at the scar that ran the length of this bare chest. He quickly reached for a robe.

 

"I want you out of here by morning." This time she met his eyes. If her command had hurt he betrayed nothing.

 

"And why the sudden urgency Sweetling?"

 

"What did you mean when we talked about Jon earlier? I don't want to wait, I need you to tell me now." Her voice was void of any emotion. There were so many questions.

 

"Jon is your aunt's son." She never expected such a direct response, "I've had my suspicions but it's only recently been confirmed." He offered no more information but somehow she knew it was true.

 

As Sansa drew a breath to respond she noticed very few of his personal belongings were around. Petyr Baelish was a thorough man who never stayed anywhere without his books, for someone to be so secretive he valued ledgers and written records. The desk where his stationary sat was also empty. Her eyes darted along the room until they confirmed her suspicion; he was already packed to leave.

 

"You were already leaving." It wasn't a question. He was abandoning her again.

 

"If you'll recall it's what my lady commands". He saw the hurt in her eyes and his voice was suddenly soft, "you don't need me anymore Sansa, I've come to believe I'm only a hinderance to you. I am however leaving half of my men until your brother returns, with them in addition to Brienne and your Northern allies you be well protected. You are safe here."

 

She was still silent. Safe. She hadn't felt safe since the Vale. "Safe? You took 'safe' away when you gave me to the Boltons." Her voice was louder with every word. "You left me alone with this monster you betrothed me to. You left me while this creature did unspeakable things to me. You were worlds away while Ramsay broke me. You betrayed me." Sansa's voice broke as the hot tears steamed down her eyes. "You were supposed to protect me." With the privacy they lacked in Mole's Town she let herself cry. Alayne would never have lost composure like this.

 

"Sansa look at me", he suddenly held her face in his hands. When did he cross the room? "You are not broken. I can never take back what has happened to you but you are strong. I would have murdered the bastard myself if I knew what he'd do to you. Ramsay doesn't define you, no matter what happened it wasn't your fault. You wanted to serve justice and avenge your family; you took the first step by reclaiming your home but there is still more to go. I'm never going to make decisions for you again, only you know what you want."

 

That was a lie for Sansa didn't know what she wanted. She wanted justice for her family but at what cost? She couldn't endure another Ramsay. "What about you? You call it justice but you continue to lie and manipulate, and for what gain? Even right now you're trying to turn me against my brother. Why? What are you trying to do to me now?"

 

"I'm trying to help you see your situation for what it is. If Jon isn't your brother who has more claim to the North? You Sansa. How can he be King in the North, Warden of the North, and Lord Protector of the Nights Watch? That's not even entertaining the possibility he may be involved with the Targaryan Queen, I hear they've gotten quite close. Where does that leave you? What do you want? You've grown into a strong leader, do you want to rule? Do you want to simply wait around for an advantageous match and be Lady of some house? I don't think so, I see the ambition in your eyes, you know you were destined for more. The way you looked descending the staircase as Alayne is something I'll never forget, you were absolutely breathtaking it and was the moment I saw you as an equal. Lying about your aunts death to save me was one thing, that could easily just be self interest, but as Alayne you awakened a power you didn't know you had. You aren't the only one who embodies two different people, I know better than anyone. This is what I'm trying to make you see Sansa. I want to help you. What can I do to make you forgive me for failing you?"

 

Her head was spinning. There was so much she wanted to say, she wanted to scream at him until he felt the weight of what he'd done. But he was right, Sansa couldn't have did this on her own. She had never thought how much she truly needed Alayne just as Petry needed Littlefinger. Alayne had power, she could manipulate, she could do things to achieve Sansa wouldn't dare; it was if two souls danced as one.

 

He quit stroking her cheek and pulled a dagger out from his trunk. He put the blade to his throat and Sansa's hand on the hilt. "If you believe I'd knowingly give the woman I love to a monster run the blade along my throat. I've almost paid that price once and there's no one I'd rather die for."

 

She studied his eyes, tightened her grip and applied pressure; Petyr didn't budge. Her feelings for him had always been complicated. He was the person that knew her best, he saved her more times than she could count, he was her mentor, her friend, and he woke desires no man had ever made her feel. She hadn't felt her body on fire since he kissed her in the Eryie, it was the first time she wanted to give in to pure passion. It was the first taste of the feeling so many were a slave to. She didn't think she would ever want someone to touch her again but this time when he pushed his lips to hers she didn't pull away.

 

His kiss was soft and she lowered the dagger, she didn't remember him putting it down but suddenly both of his hands were on her face. As quickly as it started it stopped, he placed a small kiss on her forehead and took a step backward. He dropped his head and took her hands in his.

 

"I'm sorry Sansa." Even now, so close to getting what he'd wanted for so long he restrained. "I'm not a good man." When he looked into her eyes he saw an innocence he hadn't seen since the Eyrie. She was scared, but not of him, she was scared of what she wanted. She had never thought about her nights with Ramsay as anything other than a means to an end. He needed their heir to really cement his hold on the North and when he took her it was always the same. It wouldn't be that way with Petyr. She wanted him to be the first lover she laid with.

 

Her answer was the removal of her cloak which just left her in her smallclothes. Her auburn hair was set free from her hood and she looked like he had always imagined. Neither of them moved or looked away. She took a deep breath in and tugged at the shoulders of her last remaining defense.

 

In the light of the fireplace Sansa Stark stood completely naked, exposed, and vulnerable. The shades of gray and green left his eyes and all she saw was black. Suddenly his hands were on her waist and pulled her close. He ran his hands up the smooth skin of her arms until one stroked her neck as the other buried in her hair. Their lips met again, only this time his tongue sought hers and she responded by pushing off his robe. Every nerve was alert as his hands exploded her body, she could tell he was holding back, afraid she would change her mind. She dropped her hands lower until she tugged down the last of his smallclothes and wrapped her fingers around his swollen cock. The moan that escaped his mouth was unlike anything she'd ever heard and in that moment she knew she was in control.

 

She felt the bed behind her, when had he led her there? She finally broke the kiss and put her hands on the soft furs. He whole body stiffened in anticipation of what was to come. The view was unlike anything he'd ever seen, she was willingly submitting herself in spite of everything. He knew enough from the brothels to know most men mounted like animals; Ramsay must have been no different. He ran his palms from her thighs all the way to her shoulders and turned her around to face him. "Lay back" came out guttural but she didn't hesitate.

 

They laid side by side touching, exploring, testing boundaries. One hand went to her alabaster breast, stroking, pinching, and then to the other before working it's way further down. With every sound from her lips permission was granted, permission to do whatever he wanted. Next time he'd kiss every inch of her body, but right now they both needed the same thing.

 

Reaching his goal he wasn't surprised to feel she was ready, and when he removed his fingers she moaned in protest. He spread her legs with his knee, brought his lips up to kiss her one last time and she slowly nodded knowing what he was asking. With one quick thrust their partnership was cemented. He moved slowly, enjoying the tight fit, and realized he wouldn't last long. When he felt her thrusts quicken he went harder, deeper, and then without breaking contact rolled over. Her newfound control made holding out longer impossible. Knowing the end was near by her intensifying screams he too gave in to the waves of pleasure and came crashing down hard.


	4. Chapter 4

  
She ran her fingers lightly over the scar on Petyr's chest. She felt him hold his breath as her fingers danced over the area close to where her head was resting.  
"Does it hurt?" She whispered softly.

"Only the memory. Until recently it's always been my most shameful". He let his grip tighten on her hair ever so lightly as if to make sure she was really there. Sansa didn't know how long they had laid there not speaking, it could have been a few minutes or it could have been hours. With every stroke of his soft hands she felt a little safer. Their intimacy had never felt forced, even now after all they'd been through but intimacy and trust were very different. Complete trust was something she didn't know if she'd ever feel towards anyone again but at that moment she was content.

"What happens when the sun comes up?"

"I don't have any expectations Sansa. This can mean as little or as much as you want it to. I can promise you I will not take another lover, I haven't in quite some time." He kissed her forehead and forced himself up to pour two goblets of wine. Sansa rolled over on her belly and stole the spot still warm where he laid. She took a minute to appreciate his body as there was no reserve this time. They were both unashamed as she didn't try to hide her curiosity; she had never studied a naked man before. She had also never seen him disheveled, his hair was wild and he suddenly possessed a raw animalistic quality she'd never noticed. She knew the look well, Ramsay's eyes often contained pure lust, but it was blood lust, it was the need to torture. Petyr's eyes were just as intense but it wasn't danger she saw.

He always had a confidence most men lacked. His confidence almost bordered on arrogance but he had more control than anyone she'd ever met. Sansa wondered if she could ever possess that kind of self assurance, she knew Alayne could. She always knew who she was but on this night both Alayne and Sansa acted as one.

"What about your girls? Doesn't a brothel keeper indulge in his business?" She hadn't had time to think about it before but now she wondered if her lack of experience made her a poor lover. Petyr knew exactly what to do to take her breath away, he had the touch of a man well practiced.

He held her eyes as he took long gulps from the large glass and walked closer to hand her the other. "They're all the way in Kings Landing," and then he laughed at her wide eyes. "No love, I never minded the services of whores. Men's passions are often their undoing, I've been fortunate enough to turn a profit from it." He brought the rest of the wine to his lips and drank it down.

"What about you? What are your true passions?" Sansa loved the way the furs felt under her bare feet, the warmth of the fire on her exposed body, and the wine warming her belly. Every sensation in this room was pleasurable.

"I was always certain my ambition would be my downfall, I've been careful but my judgment has been greatly affected by my larger passion." He brushed his fingers over her ankles and stroked her feet softly. She involuntary stiffened but relaxed to his touch. "I don't expect you'll ever forget what has happened to you", he was now stroking the length of her leg up to her knee, "but I promise you Sansa Stark I'll never lay a cruel hand to you." His fingers were replaced with lips as he kissed his way up. "I will always worship your perfect body", a hand was now on her thigh. "I'll always be gentle and treat you like the highborn lady you are", lips were now running over new territory higher and higher.

Petyr suddenly grabbed her leg and flipped her on her back. His eyes went from green to black and he lowered his mouth to her ear and his fingers even lower. "But should my sweet niece Alayne ever share by bed I will fuck her hard." His hand was now between her long legs teasing at entry. "I will take her to the line where pain meets pleasure. I will do things to her only a brothel keeper would dare". With every word whispered she rose her hips to meet his hand but he pulled away and kissed her hard. In that moment nothing mattered; not the guard outside the door, not Ramsay Bolton, nothing but the newfound passion. He broke their kiss for the second time that night looking ashamed, "I'm sorry I-"

"Stop talking... _uncle_ ".

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all that have allowed me to share some writing, this has been a surprisingly liberating experience! I really love exploring all the different sides of Petyr, I couldn't decided if I wanted him gentle, dominating, or a combination of both. I may do some more exploring, I haven't decided yet ;)


End file.
